


A Few Bold Strokes

by C-chan (1001paperboxes)



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Food Trucks, Getting Together, Multi, Other, Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001paperboxes/pseuds/C-chan
Summary: In which Paul gets a food truck, and New York brings new opportunities.
Relationships: Ellie Chu & Aster Flores & Paul Munsky, Ellie Chu & Paul Munsky, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores/Paul Munsky
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: Holly Poly 2020





	A Few Bold Strokes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haylestorming (lovable_and_lovable)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovable_and_lovable/gifts).



There was a new food truck parked just on the outskirts of Grinnell's campus. 

This alone wasn't too surprising; several food trucks had figured out that Grinnel had over 2,000 people coming in and out every day, many of them hungry teens and twentysomethings, and all of them in need of a few solid meals per day.

So, no, finding a new food truck near campus wasn't surprising. 

The fact this particular food truck seemed to be selling sausage tacos, however? _That_ had Ellie Chu running, fumbling as she went to get both her phone and wallet out before getting close enough that she could make out the far-too-familiar face of Paul Munsky, whose big, stupid face broke out into an equally big and stupid grin as he saw her approach.

"Hey! Guess my sausages didn't beat you to Iowa after all, huh?"

And that was such a _Paul_ opening line, getting to the point so quickly that Ellie wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry, or yell at her best friend for showing up unannounced literally halfway across the country in a _food truck_ of all things.

"Paul! How? I mean… why? I mean…."

"Wow! I never got you speechless back home," Paul admitted with a laugh. "But, uh, long story short, I thought a food truck would be more affordable than a physical place. And it lets me go places and see if people really like my sausages without having to commit to just one crowd. And Grinnell was closer than CUNY…."

"So you're here because me in Iowa is closer than Aster in New York."

"Pretty much," Paul agreed. "I'm staying in a hotel right now, but I'm looking for apartment listings. You wouldn't happen to know of any, would you?"

Ellie gave a choked noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and then took a deep breath. "Call me when you're done here. My number's still the same."

"Good," Paul replied. "Mine hasn't changed either. And I definitely will. It'll probably be after the dinner rush, though, assuming I get one."

"Right," Ellie replied. "I'll look forward to it."

Paul gave her another ridiculously stupid grin. "Me too."

* * *

So they moved in together.

And yeah, okay, breaking the residence contract had been a bit of a bitch, but it was a lot more freeing, living in one of the student-filled apartments than in the student-filled dorms. A lot cheaper, too, once the rent was split in half, and the cost of making one’s own food even just once or twice a day, versus relying on whatever was being served in and around the university, was accounted for. (Dining plan credits, thankfully, doubled for printing and laundry fees. And with Paul around, there would be a _lot_ more laundry to do.)

It was surprising, almost, how easy they set into a routine. Ellie would get up, start preparing for her 9am classes, and make sure Paul was up before she left. She’d bring him something from the cafeteria around lunch time, making use of her meal credits to give them both easy and varied meals on-campus, and then he’d cook up dinner at home. And, yeah, that was leftover sausages at least twice a week, but he’d also been getting into Cobb salads and shumai with equal gusto, and could make a mean crockpot bolognese. She’d take out CDs and DVDs of operas from the library, and explain the plots to him as he prepped new sausages at night. He’d sit down with her on the weekends and explain to her the lore of Power Rangers as they watched the latest team of heroes transform.

It was all going smoothly, in the way of small “forevers” that a semester could hold, until shortly after midterms when Paul turned to her during a commercial break and said, “let’s go to New York this summer.”

Ellie muted the TV and whipped her head to look at him.

“What?”

Paul shrugged. “I mean it. Let’s go to New York this summer. I bet just about everyone goes home, meaning it’s not gonna be good business to stay here, and also, why not?”

“Sure, fine, you can go no problem,” Ellie replied. “I, on the other hand, need to find a job so I can afford to stay on-campus next year and—“

“Work for me, then.”

Ellie blinked, letting her rant die out. “What?”

“New York’s got a larger population than Grinnel. I could probably use someone to take orders while I cook up the food. Besides, it means I could take bathroom breaks without closing down the entire establishment, especially if you’re okay learning the basics.”

Ellie took in a breath. “Do you think you’d make enough?”

“I’ve already got enough to cover rent through September on my own. You’ve got scholarships that cover part of the funds. I think together, yeah, we’ve got a good chance of making up the difference, and then some. Plus, it’d be nice to actually see Aster again, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I guess it beats throwing my resume out to four hundred job applications and hoping at least one of them likes me…”

Paul grinned. “Welcome to the Sausagearia team.”

* * *

Ellie had never learned how to drive. She’d never had reason to. Outside of trips to the Asian Grocery Store three hours away, she and her father had barely used the car, barring emergencies. Everything in Squahamish was within a half-hour walking distance. Everything at Grinnell was on-campus, or close enough to it for her to get by. And with no need, it felt like a waste of time that she could be using more productively, writing an essay or catching up on laundry.

And usually, she didn’t mind. She’d learn eventually, once it didn’t feel like a waste of time that she was likely to forget before she could actually put it to use. But in the middle of a cross-country car ride? Yeah. A little bit of guilt was called for. A lot less guilt, mind, than if Paul had had any sense of navigation.

“How the hell did you make it to Grinnell without me?”

Paul shrugged. “GPS?”

“You just made the wrong right turn three times.”

“But hey, since there’s three of them, I did end up eventually going left, right?”

Ellie just gave an exasperated sigh. 

They ended up splitting the drive over three days, doing the legs in the morning and spending what was left of the afternoon and evening seeing the sights in Chicago and Cleveland before crashing in a hotel room and starting all over again.

Still, no sight or experience in any of the places they stopped compared even slightly to the sight of Aster Flores, nor the feel of having her in Ellie’s arms.

Had they done that before, even back at Squahamish? Once. Maybe twice. There was something familiar about the feel, about the scent of the hair product that Aster preferred. It felt like home; far too easy to linger in the feel until Paul cleared his throat and asked, almost meekly, “So, do I get one too?”

And Aster laughed and let her go at that, pulling Paul into a hug of his own. And there was something kind of nice about the way Paul hunched into it, meeting Aster at her level as they revelled in the feel.

Drawing back, Aster smiled broadly at both of them, and spread her arms gladly.

“So, welcome home.”

* * *

“So why did you choose to stay here over the summer?” Ellie asked once all their things were moved up into Aster’s tenth-story studio apartment, and they were all crowded on the couch with some cooking game show on in the background.

“Several reasons,” Aster admitted. “There’s a lot of good art opportunities available over the summer; I’m planning on checking some out and getting involved in a few. Plus, my favourite prof is teaching a course on colour theory, so it’s almost worth it for Tuesdays and Thursdays alone.”

Her smile slipped a little bit.

“And, I mean, things back home haven’t been the smoothest since Trig. Especially since, well, I couldn’t deny everything after your confession, Ellie, and… well, that's got a few points of convention on its own. My dad says to hate the sin, not the sinner. I say it’s not a sin at all. And, to that note, Pride’s only a few weeks away, and there’s no-one I’d rather spend it with than a sausage boy and heathen.”

“Just to check, I’m the sausage boy here, right?”

Aster laughed, and Ellie could almost hear her heart take flight in the sweet music of that sound. “Yes, Paul, yes you are.”

* * *

Pride in New York City was an experience.

There was really no other way to put it. 

Even seeing pictures online and preparing for the event, there was something that couldn’t be conveyed through sight and sound alone about being there, being surrounded by people of every shape, size, and colour (including more than one dyed purple head to toe), in every sort of costume, sporting flags with a seemingly endless combination of stripes.

What it meant was that business was booming at the truck, and they had even needed to recruit Aster to help manage crowd control, taking orders as Ellie served food, and Paul cooked sausages as fast as he could. Aster had procured a number of flags for the truck; the standard Rainbow one for Pride, and several smaller ones scattered around, all in decals that could be removed for other events, or left on indefinitely at Paul’s wont. She’d also gotten them all an array of pins: pink and blue with purple and yellow centres for herself, a rainbow and an “ALLY” pin for Paul, and one with various shades of pink and red and another in purple and grey for Ellie. Ellie had put the red one on, and pocketed the grey one.

“I’m still thinking that one over,” she explained.

Aster had nodded, and kissed her cheek. (Ellie tried not to explode.)

They closed down during the Parade, and for Dykes on Bikes, so they could watch along with everyone else as the streets filled with the colours, sights, and sounds of the LGBTQ community on parade, sporting leathers, feathers, and bold t-shirts in every possible combination, stating with their whole bodies and beings who they were. That they were here. That they belonged. That they were as much a part of the city’s institution as the buildings or the ground they walked on.

And Aster held both their hands through it all, as they were caught up in the excitement and the feeling of exhilarating _right_ that the city had to offer.

* * *

They weren’t old enough to drink, but someone had managed to pass them a bottle of champagne anyway, and maybe that’s what took the edge off, and let inhibitions get low enough that, when it came down to the end of the night, it seemed only natural that they all pile into the same bed, and kiss, and undress. Paul and Aster had had sex. Ellie had been too distracted by mapping the way that Aster reacted to this touch and that to even care.

It wasn’t until after they were done, snuggled together in a warm, sated, haze, that Ellie realized they probably should have done a bit more _talking_ first.

“So, we should... probably discuss all of this... huh?”

Aster reached to cup her cheek, delivering a soft, gentle kiss.

“In the morning. I don’t think Paul’s going to survive long enough for us to do this seriously right now.”

A snore sounded from Aster’s other side, and both girls giggled.

“Point taken.”

* * *

In the end, it was Paul who brought it up first the next morning, over a breakfast of sausages, eggs, and toast.

“So, about last night. Was that a one-time thing? Or do we need to figure all that out?”

“The latter,” Ellie replied. “Definitely the latter.”

“Yeah, I think so too” Aster replied. She took a deep breath, and then continued. “I... it’s been nice, really nice, getting to know you both more deeply over the past while. Both digitally, now that I know who’s _actually_ saying what, and having you here. In person. ...I don’t think I would’ve had the bravery to do any of that, back in Squahamish.”

Ellie thought back to the girl who had almost agreed to marry someone she hadn’t loved, just because it seemed like the next plot point that needed to be followed in a pre-written narrative.

“Definitely not.”

“But...” Aster took another breath, looking at both of them in turn. “I wanted that. I’ve wanted it for a while. And I _liked_ it. And, yes, if you’d both have me, I’d like to do it again.”

“Me too,” Paul admitted. “Last night was kind of amazing.”

“It was,” Ellie agreed, “but also... love isn’t just lust. And yeah, sex is good and all, as is kissing and cuddling and all that, but it really doesn’t a relationship make. Does that mean we’re going somewhere with the rest of it? Or is this just a summer fuckbuddies, long-distance BFFs thing?”

“If you haven’t figured out yet that what I want goes far beyond lust, I don’t know what to tell you,” Aster replied. “Your mind, Ellie, is so beautiful. I’d never met someone my age who could talk to me on my level before you. Or someone who’d try so stupidly hard to learn so he could turn his lust to love, like you, Paul. And, yeah, it’s not going to be easy, and there’s going to be a lot to figure out, but I’m in it for the long-haul if both of you are.”

“Heck yeah,” Paul replied. “I’m definitely willing to try.”

“Ellie?”

Ellie chewed her lip. “I’m definitely down for trying,” she said. “But I don’t know how this is going to turn out. I mean, Paul, no offence, but you’re my best friend, and I’m still really not into guys. And Aster, you haven’t been around for half of the adventures we’ve been up to, so there’s probably some stuff that’ll remain between Paul and I as well. So I’m willing to go somewhere between a triangle and a V, but just be aware that there will be different boundaries, and things will not be equal. If that works for us, then yeah, I’m willing to give it a shot. But if it doesn’t, or things start to break down....”

“Then we take it as it comes, and we figure it out again,” Paul finished for her. “Like with the five spice sausage recipe. I knew it had potential, because I’d tasted your dad’s food. But I had to try for weeks before I came up with a balance that worked with what I knew, and that I could make consistently.”

“We’re not going to try and force it,” Aster agreed. “But if we can find things that work for all of us, then... yeah. I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Then it’s settled, I guess,” Ellie said, looking at both of them in turn. “Welcome to our own little polycule.”

Aster beamed. “May our time here be a good one.”

“Now hurry up and eat,” Paul insisted. “I wanna attend at least one of the Pride Sunday sermons before it’s time to open shop.”

“Fair enough,” Ellie replied, and eat they did.

* * *

“How much five-spice do you think I should pick up now?” Paul asked. “I mean, there’s even Chinese wholesale places here in New York, and I’d have to get it special order back in Grinnell, so I mean... better to stock up now and worry about it taking up space, or accept that I’m gonna have to pay more for it but get it on demand back home?”

“So, about that,” Ellie replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible, despite the feeling of electric anxiety and anticipation running through her veins. “What if we didn’t go back.”

“What do you mean?” Paul asked.

“Well, like you said, there’s a lot more people here in New York than in Grinnell. Business has been booming, and it’s good for you to be here. We could stay, and you could make a lot more than you could back in a sleepy college down like that.”

“But what about you?”

Ellie shrugged. “I’ve been looking into that. CUNY actually does have a decent philosophy program, and I think I’d be able to transfer most of my credits. It might take me an extra semester or two, but I think I’m okay with that. We just might need to be a little extra frugal in the winter, when it’s not good food truck weather.”

Paul smiled. “Any weather’s food truck weather if you try hard enough.”

“Then,” Aster said, bringing over coffee for all three of them, “I think it’s time we start looking into getting a bigger apartment.”

* * *

There was something about stepping into the new apartment that was hard for Ellie to put into words.

Maybe it was the fact that she was coming home to two of her favourite people in the world. Maybe it was the scent of sausages and the sound of music—a mix of classical and oldies, Christian rock and country and showtunes—that had become such a backbone of their life. Maybe it was that little sense of forever, that would hopefully see her through the rest of her degree and into whatever laid after.

Whatever it was, it made Ellie’s heart fill with joy every time she walked through the doors after her evening classes, kissed Aster on the head where she was working on her own homework, and leaned up against Paul in a hands-free greeting before grabbing a plate or bowl of whatever was for dinner that night.

It was home, it was eclectic, and it was undeniably theirs.

And Ellie could think of nothing she could love more.


End file.
